Free The Fun We've Had by Michael J Seidlinger

occupy or entertain her doubled as preoccupation and, when she seemed to believe him, really believe him, he almost forgot where they were.
    It could have been a boat and they could have been only a few paddles away from a beach.
    “Maybe we can see who is the fastest swimmer, one straight line and back.”
    He clicked his tongue.
    “Maybe we can fish for new fantasies if none of these worked. We could look for the one that you wanted, the one that is on the tip of my tongue, but I can no longer remember what it was.”
    Fantasies were all they were and barely that. They were his buoys more so than hers, but she’d still kiss him on the cheek, still laugh or giggle, and, if none of the above, she at least smiled that smile, the one so perfectly practiced it erased the creeping dangers from view.
    When she wanted a drink, he cupped his hands and plunged them into the cold waters. He saw in the water the reflection of the sky, now a light blue. Soon it would—
    But she wanted water, and that was enough; water was what she needed, and until he gave her the water, it was all he could think about.
    He cupped his hand and lowered it into the water. Bringing it up to her face, her smile inverted to a frown. She coughed, spitting the water, telling him to try it. It had turned acidic. The seawater tasted like copper and wouldn’t stay down.
    He leaned over the edge, dry-heaving.
    She asked him what it meant and he shook his head, “Not yet. Don’t start until it starts.” He had to be confident. There could be no alternative. But of course, the shark appeared at dawn, little more than a ripple in the water, sleek and silent, barely noticed, until he saw the fin circling the coffin.
    The shark was an omen.
    It brought with it everything he had feared.
    This belongs to you. Now let go.
    Arms tightening around her, “I’m not letting go,” he said under his breath.

 
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     

     
    HER TURN
     
     
     
     
     
    His arms were heavy and warm. She hid from the cold inside his embrace. There was cold only because she couldn’t bear to be anywhere but in his arms. The cliché of new romances and the desire for consistent affection and contact existed as a cliché because it was true. It was the only reason she held on.
    Her grip so tight on his forearm, she wasn’t avoiding demise because she wanted to remain. She avoided demise because she couldn’t bear to have him go.
    Somehow he had turned her into his own buoy, his only reason to remain, and it was because of this that she would remain too. Hold on because not holding on would cut them in half.
    Severed: her error, as always, ruined everything.
    Little kisses kept him from losing focus. In his arms, she wasn’t afraid. However who did he have to confide in?
    She took and never gave back. This is what she believed. Based on how he acted, it might be true.
    All the fantasies fed were just cause for a genuine smile.
    The plainest fear was that he wouldn’t be able to keep the coffin afloat. What could she do…?
    Nothing.
    Those little kisses were enough until she coughed, spitting out the water he had given, and the entire charade, from her eyes, shattered like the night. Clouds formed yellow borders as if to taunt her. Soon. Soon there will be no way to hide.
    For this to work, one character has to know more of the story. One of the two characters needs to be able to read these lines. Every single line read in the past tense, and therefore clearly understood of the implications of being where they had already been. The burden that’s his was nowhere near as heavy as the burden she carried. Every single one of her actions and inactions concealed the true wreckage of this tale.
    Forget all about the water. Forget how it tasted. She had known all along how it would taste. Coughing was better than swallowing it down. Eyes shut. That’s right. Shutting one’s eyes would save the moment, the moment that, she